


baby i can see your halo

by andcntes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, god i've forgotten how to tag, soft boyfriends in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:51:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andcntes/pseuds/andcntes
Summary: krisyeol cc prompt — 10: a kiss before leaving





	baby i can see your halo

“columbia’s only a plane ride away,” kris reassures, looking up from where he’s unpacking the last of chanyeol’s things. he pulls out a tangle of fairy lights, furrowing his eyebrows. “we just nipped out to buy these, how did you tangle them already?”

  
  
there is fond exasperation in kris’s tone, eyes melting to a warm amber as the sunlight peeks through the blinds of chanyeol’s single dorm. 

  
  
“why do you have to go to columbia anyway?”

  
  
“because they have—"   
  
“— a world class creative writing program, i  _ know _ .” the exasperation bleeds from kris’s tone into chanyeol’s and kris glances up from where his fingers are trapped in loops of wire to wide, brown eyes.

  
  
“what?”   


  
“northwestern has a better program you know.”   


  
kris laughs, settling on chanyeol’s bed. his feet barely graze the carpet of the dorm room and he grins. it had taken them the better part of two hours to adjust the bed to their heights. his forehead still tingles from when the mattress had met his frontal lobe. “baby, you start orientation  _ tomorrow _ !”   


  
“i could sneak you in!” there is a determination to chanyeol’s tone, one that isn’t unfamiliar to kris. he’s heard it many times before; like the time they snuck into the hot tub at the country club, clothes shed somewhere between the tennis courts and locker rooms; or family brunch, chanyeol’s fingers digging into his thigh as they told their parents.    


  
he’s still not sure why they were worried about that one; the parks’ and the wus’ had been making jokes about the proxemics of chanyeol and kris since they were in diapers.  _ perfect harmony _ ; kris likes to believe they coexist in perfect harmony. he and chanyeol are like two parts of a well-oiled machine, different but incomplete without each other. without chanyeol, kris drifts; he gets lost in his head, in his thoughts for hours on end.    


  
“earth to kris?”    


  
a sharpie narrowly misses kris’s eye and he glances up again, this time more out of alarm than anything. “i know you want me to stay, but blinding me? that’s taking it a step too far.”    


  
his terrible joke pulls a laugh out of chanyeol anyway. kris smiles to himself, warmth blossoming in his chest. rambunctious, demanding — it requires attention.  _ no _ , it’s  **more** than that; it is the crux upon which kris’s balance is centered.    


  
chanyeol is the axis upon which his world spins; chanyeol is the sense of calm which washes over kris when he is a mess of constellations, raging tides and blizzards. the corner of his mouth curves upward; chanyeol did always say he had a way with words.

  
“what are you thinking about?” soft, chanyeol joins kris on the bed. his hands settle in his own lap, calm. this side of him always eases kris into something headier than warmth; blood rushes to his head and he wants to cherish this moment. he yearns to fold himself into chanyeol’s embrace, exchange heat with their mouths until the vertigo slips away, until the world slips away.    


  
“how i want your cock in my mouth.”   


  
“kris!” there’s a raised edge to his tone; high pitched, airy — uneven. he’s hit a nerve.   


  
kris casts a glance at chanyeol, smile tugging at his lips when he catches the faint dusting of crepe against his boyfriend’s cheekbones. “ _ alas _ ,” he drags the syllable, laying down so his head hits the cotton of the mattress.    


  
a flower blooms in his chest when chanyeol slides down too, head resting against his sternum. from this angle, kris is afraid chanyeol will hear the unsteady rhythm of his heart; the heart which belongs to him, a heart which he will leave behind this evening.    


  
“tease,” chanyeol mumbles, fingers tracing an idle pattern against the shirt kris wears.    


  
boxes lay unpacked, suitcases opened and settled in the centre of the room. the other side of the room is bare, a contrast to the posters chanyeol has already hung up. kris sees the west side story vintage print he’d gotten his boyfriend for christmas last year sits in the centre. there is an assortment of photos on the upper shelf of the study table: chanyeol with his parents, chanyeol with the lacrosse team, chanyeol with the family dog, graduation but there — alone on the desk sits a single frame.    


  
“i wanted that picture you know.”   


  
a snort. “yeah well, your mom gave it to me.” chanyeol pats his chest, a consolation prize.    


  
“when’s your roommate getting here?”   


  
the silence which settles between them is comfortable; he and chanyeol, kris realizes have never relied on words.    


  
chanyeol shrugs. “who knows? i just hop e he does his fucking laundry.”   


  
laughter rips from kris’s throat and he rolls away, curling in on himself as he howls. it’s not even that funny, chanyeol is usually funnier but it’s starting to sink in. they’ve spent their entire lives together and now he’ll be a two hour plane ride away. anxiety grips at kris, settles in the nervous jitter of his fingers, resides in the lump in his throat. “your  _ maid _ did the laundry back home,” he reminds instead.   


  
“how hard can it be?” chanyeol sits up too; kris doesn’t have to look at him to envision his face. frown lines maring his forehead, eyebrows drawn together, eyes honeyed with concern. “ _ you’re _ one to talk. why are you even living at the dorms?”   


  
“to rub in your face that i can just go home to do laundry.” kris turns back to chanyeol, reaching for his hand. fingers slip into chanyeol’s, interlacing and kris’s heart cedes its rancorous howls.    


  
his boyfriend’s attention, it seems, is elsewhere. chanyeol’s lips draw downwards into a pout, thumb rubbing soothing circles at the space between his thumb and index finger. “just a two hour plane ride,” chanyeol reassures.   


  
kris’s eyes soften; they’re almost golden in the tender, afternoon sun. the edges of his mouth quirk upward. chanyeol always knows what he needs. he leans in then, free hand resting against chanyeol’s face as he strokes a thumb alongside his boyfriend’s cheekbone. “i love you,” kris whispers, reverent.   


  
they’re in university, freshmen; they’ve  _ barely _ graduated high school, still in their late teens. kris may not  **know** what love means but he’s sure this is what it  **feels** like. the look on chanyeol’s face is worth it as he lights up. “i love you too,” chanyeol laughs, exhaling. “ _ idiot _ .”   


  
before kris can respond to the (baseless) accusation, chanyeol’s lips are against his own. they are gentle, warm; kissing chanyeol reminds him of sunday mornings. the sun gently trickling in through the curtains, the familiarity of his mother bossing around the cook in the kitchen, the upended duvet sliding off his legs, and the steadiness of it all. chanyeol is his sun; chanyeol is his home.    


  
it is kris who breaks the kiss first, grinning as he knocks their foreheads together. “should we finish unpacking?”   


  
chanyeol groans, flopping back on the bed. “fucking slave driver. i know letting you spend all that time with my mom was a mistake!”   


  
he pays no mind to chanyeol’s theatrics, instead rolling his eyes as he reaches for neatly folded clothes to dump them into the closet. “don’t bring your mother into this, she loves me!”   


  
“yeah because you’re a goody two shoes a round her!”   


  
“as opposed to what?”   


  
chanyeol sits up, wagging a finger in kris’s direction. “i know you kris wu. you’re a demon!”   


  
happiness exudes off kris’s countenance as he lets a few chuckles slip. “you’re just jealous she’s always liked me better.” his gaze falls on a familiar red and blue and he pauses; there, emblazoned on the back is his last name. this is his jersey from senior year, as captain of the basketball team. kris grins but says nothing as he smooths it down, setting it on one of the many shelves of chanyeol’s closet.   


  
“kris,” chanyeol whines, bounding over to him, arms wrap around kris’s midsection as he rests his chin upon kris’s shoulder. “i’m hungry and i want to get to know the campus.”   


  
“your stomach should be renamed the black hole,” kris comments but he turns in chanyeol’s grip and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. he always gives in.

  
  
                                                                                                                                       ˙ ˖ ✶             

  
  
“do you have to go?” chanyeol’s fingers are curled into the hem of kris’s jacket and he can’t help but smile. they’re standing outside chanyeol’s residence, cab driver waiting impatiently and kris makes no move to leave.   
  
a hand reaches out to brush away the strand which has fallen into chanyeol’s face and kris takes his time, committing features to memory. he’s being foolish; the second he gets to the airport, sitting comfortably in the lounge, his phone will buzz; it will be a facetime request from chanyeol, kris will pick up. “my flight leaves in three hours. besides, columbia orientation is in two days.”   
  
chanyeol pouts.   
  
“i came all the way to see you off and you’re giving me attitude?”   
  
chanyeol responds by wrapping his arms around kris. they match in height and yet somehow chanyeol folds himself so his face nestles perfectly in the crook of kris’s neck. “don’t know how i’m going to survive four months without your ugly face.”   
  
kris laughs, hand rubbing a comforting circle into chanyeol’s back. “you’ll be home for thanksgiving, baby.”

 

“yeah but--”

 

“don’t worry, if sehun ever manages to get down the busta rhymes’ rap i’ll be sure to snapchat it to you.”

 

chanyeol snorts; the weight lifts off of kris’s shoulder. he’s always been terrible with tears, even when they’re his boyfriend’s. “busta rhymes, look at us. we’re a couple of  _ oldies.” _ the fondness is evident in chanyeol’s tone, no matter how muffled his voice is against kris’s collarbone.

 

his hands are nimble, they pull chanyeol’s face away from the warmth he’s hidden himself in. fingers frame chanyeol’s features and kris smiles, acting braver than he feels. “i’m just a two hour plane ride away,” he reassures before leaning in for another kiss.

 

there isn’t enough time for a dozen kisses but oh how kris  _ wishes _ there was; how he wishes he could freeze time in this moment, remain in this moment with chanyeol in his supreme sweatpants (although kris is  _ sure _ those are his) and loose white shirt hanging from his collarbones. how he wishes he  **hadn’t** deferred the acceptance from northwestern. instead he pours everything into the kiss; allows for the warmth he associates with chanyeol to bathe his skin with gold once more.

 

the cab driver presses down against his horn, the noise  **bleeding** into the picture perfect goodbye. kris’s gaze is rueful as he glances towards the vehicle and then back at chanyeol. 

 

“call you when i land?”

 

chanyeol smiles back at him, fingers running through his hair. “text me before you take off.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos as always are appreciated ( ˘ ³˘)♥


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